


Empress of Enigma

by TheQuiet



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF!Aelin, BUT WITH A LEGIT PLOT, Established Relationship, F/M, Secret Relationship, Secretly Married, basically just fluff, chaol and dorian have no clue what's up, manon may end up in this because she's awesome, nehemia lives, rowan and aelin already know each other but don't tell anyone, sam didn't exist sorry, set during crown of midnight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8184794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheQuiet/pseuds/TheQuiet
Summary: “Allow me to introduce the Fae ambassador,” Dorian said, gesturing to the white-haired male. “Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle”. Rowan’s eyes didn’t leave hers as Dorian waved a hand toward her, "This is Lillian. She works for my father.”Rowan’s face stayed expressionless save for an imperceptible quirk of his eyebrow and lips, as though to ask, you’re going by Lillian now?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so basically I had this idea that Aelin and Rowan knew each other before the series and instead of Roland going to Adarlan in Crown of Midnight it was Rowan who showed up and BAM! Cue secret relationship and badassery...

Aelin Ashryver Galathynius found few moments of peace within her masquerade as Celaena Sardothien, the King’s Champion, but her morning runs with Chaol allowed her a brief reprieve from the duties that pressed upon her shoulders.

Making their way into the castle gardens, Aelin rolled her eyes at the ladies littering the path, each halting their walk to take notice of sweaty Captain of the Guard. She supposed he had a certain appeal, with his muscled olive skin, and defined features, but…

“Celaena?” He asked, pulling her from her musings, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts. _Distraction is danger_ , her mind hissed, and she looked back at Chaol whose knitted eyebrows radiated concern.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was distracted”. _Danger, danger-_ He looked at her for a moment longer and hummed lowly, turning back to the gravel path.

“I was asking if you were going to Rifthold to spy on Archer today,” he said softly, the deeper notes of his voice lost to the softness of the snow. Aelin nodded, Archer was… a problem. One that she’d have to deal with before his blind ideals about the Queen of Terrasen left her in an even more precarious position.

She nodded. “I’ll deal with him soon.” A statement as much for his benefit as it was hers.

“Chaol.” Dorian’s voice cut through the crisp morning, silencing whatever Chaol had been preparing to say.

Aelin groaned, a barely audible sound as she rounded the hedges and stopped. Her jaw gently parting as she saw Dorian striding toward them, followed by a man whose pine-green eyes widened slightly in response to her own gasp.

She hadn’t realised she was shivering until Chaol grasped her arm. “Celaena!” he hissed, and she jolted upright, closing her mouth with a gentle pop.

She ripped her eyes from _him_ , and found both Dorian and Chaol watching her with bristling tension. Dorian glanced between them and blinked, seeming to clear his mind of her momentary slip.

“Allow me to introduce the Fae ambassador,” Dorian said, gesturing to the white-haired male. “Prince Rowan Whitethorn of Doranelle”. Rowan’s eyes didn’t leave hers as Dorian waved a hand toward her and Chaol. “This is our Captain of the Guard, Chaol Westfall. And this is Lillian. She works for my father.”

Rowan’s face stayed expressionless save for an imperceptible quirk of his eyebrow and lips, as though to ask, _you’re going by Lillian now?_

She tilted her head, _I like to make things complex. Fae Ambassador?_

 _Don’t I know it. And it’s easy to gain invitation to an assassination._ He shot back.

 _Touche_ , she smirked. _I’ll try not to be surprised when I see your name on my list._

_Brat._

“Pleasure to makes your acquaintance, Prince Rowan,” Aelin curtseyed.

“The pleasure is mine,” Rowan said, bowing at the waist. “What sort of work do you do for the king?”

His raised eyebrow challenged her to spin another lie, he was feeling out the extent to which Chaol and Dorian would expect obedience. How much freedom they would have.

Dorian shifted on his feet and Chaol went still, Aelin could practically feel the smugness radiating off Rowan. So she smiled sweetly and said, “I bury the king’s opponents where nobody will ever find them.”

Rowan choked, his eyes sparkling as he stifled his surprise. She didn’t bother looking at Chaol, who seemed to be vibrating with anger at her disregard for propriety. “I wasn’t expecting the King’s Champion to be so…”

 _Beautiful, talented, clever, fascinating…_ Aelin tilted her head.

 _Irritating_ , he threw in.

“Lovely.” Rowan said out loud.

“What brings you to the castle, Rowan?” Chaol cut in, smiling with a terrifying flash of teeth.

Rowan smiled smoothly, “I’m here to discuss an alliance between His Majesty and Queen Maeve.” Chaol’s eyes snapped to Dorian, who gave a shrug of confirmation. “I arrived early this morning, and I’m to begin negotiations today.”

Dorian went to speak, but before he could form words Aelin stepped toward Rowan, studying him intently. “Perhaps you and I shall work together, your highness. You seem… intriguing.”

The corner of Rowan’s lips raised, “Not for any nefarious purposes I hope. I’m spoken for, unfortunately.”

“Pity,” Aelin crooned, raking her gaze over his muscled form, glancing at him from beneath her lashes. “She must be a rare, staggering beauty to make you so faithful.”

She watched the bob of his throat as he tracked a droplet of sweat roll down her neck, between her breasts. “Yes,” he said, his voice thick. “All that and more.”

Chaol’s face had paled, and Dorian looked slightly sick at her flirting. Out of some misguided and likely jealous instinct, Chaol placed a guiding hand on her lower back, and she watched as Rowan’s eyes darkened, his mouth forming a growl-

“I’ll see you around, Prince Rowan.” She drawled, winking at Dorian to see the canines grate together in Rowan’s mouth as she let Chaol lead her inside the castle.

* * *

 

When Aelin returned to her rooms that afternoon, lugging colourful bags of perfume and sweets, and brown paper parcels with books she absolutely _had_ to read immediately, she nearly dropped it all at the sight of Dorian Havilliard sitting in her foyer.

“Gods above.” He said, taking in all her purchases.

Aelin ignored him. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” she said. “Didn’t I already see you this morning in the garden?”

The garden. Gods, seeing Rowan had left her shaken, just thinking about him near the king almost caused her to collapse out of sheer terror. She knew Rowan could take care of himself, but without his magic… The place in her stomach where fire usually burned throbbed, empty, the connection between her and Rowan still weak but _there_. She hadn’t felt that essence of _him_ for years, and when she had felt him this morning, it had taken everything in her not to weep of joy and relief.

Dorian’s face creased at the mention of the garden, but he seemed to push that away before forcing a boyish grin onto his face. “Aren’t friends allowed to visit each other more than once a day?”

She stared at him. Being friends with Dorian was complicated, knowing that he was the son of the man who had destroyed her kingdom and killed her parents – who now gripped her fate in his hands – it was difficult in the least.

“I actually need to go to Rifthold now,” she said. _Lie_. She was going to find Rowan. Rowan. Knowing he was so close made her giddy.

Dorian’s smile faded, and the silence grew heavy as he took a step closer to her, “Do you want me to fight for you? Is that it?”

“No.” she said, the thought of him trying to win her with Rowan so near almost causing her to snort. The overprotective male would be hard pressed not to destroy the crown prince, and that would cause more problems than it was worth. Besides, Dorian _was_ her friend, despite any complications. “I just want to be alone.”

His eyes flickered with disappointment and sadness. Aelin stared at him, unmoving, not letting out her breath until the door clicked closed. She collapsed onto her duvet and held out her hand, attempting to summon a flame. Nothing.

Calming her annoyance with a deep breath she lowered her hand and lay down. Now that Rowan was here, Dorian and Chaol’s messy attempts at vying for her affections would have to stop, her mate was territorial enough to ruin her plan. _Plans, plans, plans_. She would have to fill him in soon enough, but first… Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius wanted to reunite with her husband.


	2. Chapter 2

The corridors were empty as Aelin made her way to the guest quadrant, whether out of fear of Rowan or avoidance of her, she was uncertain. Servants lacked curiosity in the glass palace. It was understandable, she supposed, anyone’s awareness of her own movements would lead to their death.

She had been careful not to be seen, but evading Chaol had proven time consuming; his curiosity about her plans with Archer Finn causing his attempts to actively seek her out. _Plans, plans, pl—_

“Aelin.” His voice stopped her thoughts, her breath catching as she looked up. He was as beautiful as she remembered, he was – _home_ – here.

“Rowan.” Her voice cracked as she stepped toward him. The guarded expression he had worn earlier in the garden wiped away completely, the depth of his emotions written on his face, baring his soul. She imagined she looked much the same.

For all the care she had taken to distance her past from this – _despicable, painful, broken –_ land, it would have all come to naught if anyone had observed her in that moment. Adarlan’s Assassin; known by the Fae, consorting with that Fae.

_Mated to a Fae._

_Yes_. Rowan pulled her from her thoughts, and she became aware they were still standing in the doorway. _You are mine._

And then she was in his arms, the heavy door falling closed behind her as she gripped the back of his neck, pulling him down into a rough kiss. _Oh how she burned._ _Her beautiful flames growing until-_ She felt something wet against her cheek and realised she was crying, Rowan pulling away to stroke her hair, his own eyes glinting unnaturally.

She took an unsteady breath, cupping her hand to his face. “You’re not safe here,” she said. “All I wanted was for you to be safe.”

Rowan pulled her closer and sighed, resting his head upon her own as she listened to his heart beat. “I couldn’t-“ He paused, struggling to gather his thoughts. “When I heard Celaena Sardothien had become the King’s Champion, I knew… I couldn’t just _stay._ I- I had to find you.”

_You shouldn’t have to face Him alone_ , his eyes seemed to say.

_He terrifies me._ She let out a frustrated sigh. _After everything, I should be stronger._

_You’re the strongest person I know, Aelin. The things he’s done are worthy of our fear._

“I’ve missed you.” She whispered, and his arms tightened around her. “There’s so much I have to tell you, but…”

“We’ll talk later.” He said, kissing her forehead. “Although,” he pulled back to quirk an eyebrow, “Archer Finn?”

She laughed. “No need to be jealous; he’s just a target. The King’s worried about his loyalty to Aelin Galathynius.”

“Does he have reason to be?” He asked.

“No,” She rolled her eyes. “Archer’s operating on his own misguided deductions and beliefs. He knows me as Celaena, and everything’s becoming more difficult as Celaena.”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms. “I noticed. The Prince and the Captain.” An unpleasant twist of his lips.

She placed her hand against his chest and smirked up at him. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting me to put an end to their attempted affections?”

His expression was pained as he looked at her. “If,” he let out a long exhale. “If it’s what you think best, I won’t ask you to stop.”

“Rowan.” Her voice softened. “ _You’re_ _here_. I don’t need anyone else.”

He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to hers. “I love you,” he murmured. “Be safe.”

She pulled him in again, resting her forehead on his. “I’ll see you tonight.” _I love you._

* * *

 

On a rooftop in a very fashionable and respectable part of Rifthold, Aelin crouched in the shadow of a chimney and frowned into wind gusting off the Avery. She checked her pocket watch for the third time. Archer Finn’s previous two appointments had only been an hour each. He’d been in the house across the street for almost two.

She found herself growing impatient. In any other circumstance, she would have only been irritated by the cold, but with Rowan waiting for her… She found herself smiling at the thought.

The front door of the townhouse opened and Archer swaggered down the steps, right into his waiting carriage. She barely caught a glimpse of his golden-brown hair and fine clothes before he was whisked away.

Celeana straightened from her crouch and hurried off the roof, finding herself back on the cobbled streets, trailing Archer’s carriage. The King was more correct than she would like about Archer’s plans, and whatever she uncovered –   _about Archer’s plans, The King’s plans, her plans_ – would destroy her any everything she cared for. 

* * *

 

To her displeasure, she found herself in Chaol’s rooms. Leaning her head against the back of the small couch, she dangled her legs over the cushioned arm, deliberating how she could avoid conversation without rousing his suspicions.

The scratching of Chaol’s pen stopped, and she silently cursed his curiosity. “Remind me again what you’re working on. "

She sunk down into the chair, and attempted to lighten her tone. “Just information about Archer. Clients, favoured haunts, his daily schedule.”

Chaol pursed his lips and looked at her. “Why go to so much trouble to track him when you could just shoot him and be done with it? You said he was well-guarded, yet it seems like you tracked him easily today.”

She scowled. Chaol was too smart for his own good, this is why she’d been avoiding him. She just wanted to find Rowan, and talk to him about _everything_. “Because, if the king actually has a group of people conspiring against him, then I should get as much information about them as I can before I kill Archer." 

“Right,” Chaol said. “So you’re just … memorizing that information now?”

“If you’re suggesting that I have no reason to be here and should leave, then tell me to go.” _Please, please, please-_

“I’m just trying to figure out what’s so boring that you dozed off ten minutes ago.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was just thinking, something you should try sometime.”

His brows rose. “I heard you snoring.”

“You’re a liar, Chaol Westfall.” She threw her paper at him and plopped back on the couch. “Do you know who Rouke Farran is?”

She felt Chaol’s attention on her. “The crime lord?”

She nodded. “Have you ever dealt with him?”

“No,” Chaol said. “But … that’s because Farran is dead.”

She lowered the paper. “Farran’s dead?”

“Nine months ago. He and his three top men were all found murdered by …” Chaol chewed on his lip, searching for the name. “Wesley. A man named Wesley took them all out. He was …” Chaol cocked his head to the side. “He was Arobynn Hamel’s personal guard. Did you know him?”

“Yes,” she said shortly, her mind running with the newfound knowlege. For the years she’d spent with Arobynn, Wesley had been a silent, deadly presence, a man who had barely tolerated her, and had always made it clear that if she ever became a threat to his master, he’d kill her.

After a few moments of silence, Chaol asked, “We never learned why Wesley went after Rourke Farran, though. Wesley was just a personal bodyguard. What did he have against Farran?”

She looked to the window, burning to share her newfound knowledge with Rowan. “It was an act of revenge. He thought Farran was responsible for… Someone hired me and my... companion to kill Farran, but it was all just a trap, and Farran was the bait.”

“That was the night you were captured?” Chaol asked. “But I thought you didn’t know who had betrayed you.”

_No one betrayed me,_ she thought. _It was all part of the plan_.

Silence; then—“What was his name? Your companion?”

_Rowan._ “It doesn’t matter,” she pulled herself up. “I should be going anyway.”

He got to his feet. “I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“No!” She broke out, and he narrowed his eyes. She lifted her chin, trying to recover. “I thought I didn’t need to be escorted everywhere now?”

“You don’t,” he said, walking to the door. “But it is something that friends tend to do.”

“Would you walk Dorian back to his room?” She attempted, batting her eyelashes at him, and striding through the door as he opened it for her. “Or is this a privilege that only your lady-friends receive?”

“If I had any lady-friends, I’d certainly extend the offer. I’m not sure you qualify as a lady, though.”

She let her lips lift into a tired smile. “I’ll be fine, Chaol. I just need to rest; I’ll find you tomorrow.”

His resolve seemed to crack at her fatigue, and she almost felt guilty for manipulating him. _Almost_. He gave a slight nod and she turned away to the close of his door.

* * *

 

Aelin waited for the midnight hour to chime through the tower before she left her rooms. She planned on picking up a book from the library, and spending the night curled up with Rowan in his toasty bed.

Turning the corner, she entered a dark, window-lined hallway that ran past the towering doors of the library and froze.

With the chill tonight, it was no surprise to see someone completely concealed by a black cloak, hood drawn far over the face. But something about the figure standing between the open library doors made some ancient, primal part of her send a warning pulse so strong that she didn’t take another step. _Burn it, burn it, burn it._

The person swivelled its head toward her, pausing as well. She felt the suppression of her magic clamp around her as her Fae side fought to surface, and she winced at the _wrongness_ of the power around her.

The figure now turned to face her fully, and she wasn’t naïve enough to think it a person. It sniffed at her, a huffing, animal sound.

She didn’t dare move.

A faint warmth bloomed against her chest, then a pulsing blue light—

The Eye of Elena was glowing.

The thing halted, and Celaena stopped breathing. The tiny blue gem in the centre of her amulet glowed brighter, and Celaena almost collapsed in relief at the fact that some magic was too powerful to be contained.

Celaena didn’t go into the library. She turned immediately toward the guest quarters and melded into the shadows. She needed Rowan.


End file.
